now you're in my life
I cant get you off my mind

── ·𖥸· ──

STILES STILINSKI WAS never quite the best at hiding his emotions. They were—in most cases—put on display as if he had opened his heart up like a book. She knew this—in the way she saw his cheeks heat up during a conversation or hearing his words come out in flustered rambles when she spoke to him.

At first she had thought that maybe that's just how he was. Perhaps that was how he acted on a normal occasion when he talked to anybody. Turns out it wasn't—according to Scott at least, who she very quickly found out was Stiles' bestfriend since childhood.

Scott was the one who basically let her in on the secret. "The big secret" she should say. The secret Stiles had been keeping close to him ever since she arrived in Beacon Hills.

In simpler terms, he liked her. That much was a given. That doesn't mean he ever did anything about it though.

If it hadn't been for Scott she wasn't sure when she would've actually figured it out. How could she when he only ever spoke to her when she talked to him first.

It made her a bit aggravated if she was being honest. Why couldn't he gather the courage to make a move on her? Just one— one was all she needed for reassurance. She could take it from there.

He was cute—very cute. She liked his spiky brown hair that he seemed to care about enough to spend time every morning fixing. (Yet the days when he showed up with his hair ruffled up from sleep always happened to be her favorite. He was even cuter that way. Made him seem more soft than usual.)

She liked his eyes and how they turned almost golden when the sun shined on them. She loved his nose; something about it was insanely perfect to her. Honestly, she was jealous; how could someone that pretty not even realize the amount of girls who stared at them as they walked by.

The bell was what eventually snapped her out of her daze. Collecting her thoughts, she rushed to put her notebook and pens back into her bag. Her eyes skimmed the empty paper, realizing that she had spent the whole hour mindlessly daydreaming about Stiles instead of taking notes. She knew that would come back to bite her later, as Chemistry was definitely a class she needed to be paying attention in.

Oh well. If all else fails maybe she could ask Stiles to tutor her? He was one of the smartest people in their grade after all—right below Lydia Martin.

The hallways were less packed than usual, which made it easier for her to spot him. It happened that her last two classes of the day were quite close to eachother, so she was able to take her time during the transition. She spotted Stiles almost immidiantly. History was the only class she had with him, so it was the anticipation before seeing him that made her nervous.

His green and black flannel caught her eye first, followed by the flailing of his arms as he spoke to Scott. A smile crept on her face, a small blush covering her cheeks as she watched him run a hand through his non-gelled hair.

She clutched her backpack and walked towards them, stopping a few feet away so she could catch their attention before she said hi.

Stiles turned first, eyes wide, and slapped Scott in the arm, beckoning him to turn around too.

"Hey guys," she smiled, the greeting warm and lighthearted.

Stiles choked out his words. "Hey! Youre- uhm- Y/N. What are you-uh-doing here?"

From the corner of her eye she saw Scott roll his eyes, hiding a smirk with his hand.

"It's history class," she quipped, "Figured I'd attend so I don't, you know, fail."

She watched as the previous redness on Stiles' cheeks deepened farther. Obviously she hadn't meant to make him feel embarrassed, just wanted to joke back with him. Now she was unsure if that had been the right move. It was all too difficult with Scott standing next to them and Stiles' lack of ability to communicate like a normal person.

"Right- of course-," he swallowed; she noticed how he was tapping his finger against his leg. How his eyes were shifting vigorously back and forth between her own, unable to choose just one part of her face to focus on.

"How about we go into the class!" Scott exclaimed with fake excitement, "A lot less failing will happen in there rather than out here drooling over each-other."

"We're not-" Stiles started, but she already slipped past him and entered the room with Scott, a smile on her face she was forcing herself to push down.

She took a seat near the back of the class, diagonal from where Scott placed his bag. It didn't come as a shock when Stiles rushed in behind them, clumsily sliding into the seat in front of her and throwing his bookbag to the ground. The bell rang after that, initiating the start of class.

This was where the real challenge happened. It was one thing to try not to get distracted in her other five classes, but it was another to stay focused on the lesson while Stiles Stilinskis fingers were only inches away from her, fiddling a pencil between his pointer and his thumb.

His body slumped in his chair, inevitability bringing himself closer to her. She could reach out and touch his hair right now if she wanted to.

The teacher started talking, picking back up from their lesson on World War 2. It was clear Stiles was struggling to focus aswell, as she spotted cheap doodles scattered across the paper he was supposed to be taking notes on. Suprisingly she had actually been able to listen to most of the lesson—a majority of the work had made it onto the page.

Maybe she wouldn't fail the next test after all.

It was near the end of the class when the teacher came around with their grades from the last unit test. She held her breath as she dropped the paper onto her desk, a bold 42 written in deep red marker. The words "maybe think about a tutor" were underneath it, scribbled in fine ink.

She flipped her test over with a sigh, her hair falling in her face in hope to cover the embarrassment that was creeping onto her cheeks.

Suddenly someone was tapping her arm. Her eyes shot up, body fixing its posture almost simolantiously. She saw Stiles peering at her intently, his eyebrows furrowed in a look of confusion.

"You okay?" he asked, voice soft so the teacher wouldn't hear him.

She gave him a thumbs up; uncertainty flashed across his face, but slowly he turned back around.

Then the bell was ringing, and Scott and Stiles were quickly making their way out of class, happy for the day to be over. She trudged behind them. Sure they were friends, but she hadn't been in Beacon Hills that long so she wasn't sure if they'd want her following them out.

Her point was contradicted when their teacher called out her name. "Y/N, Stiles, will you both come here for a second."

The two of them glanced at eachother wearingly, but let the rest of their classmates go in front of them. Scott waved by to them, telling Stiles he would text him later after work.

She made her way to the teachers desk. Ms Redding was sitting on her desk, feet swinging underneath her in what she assumed was supposed to be an act of getting level.

"Y/N, I'm sure you're aware of why I've called you."

"Is this about my grades?" she questioned. That was the only answer that currently made sense to her. Yet, why was Stiles here then? He was smart—there was no way he was bombing this class as badly as she was. Then it clicked. The grade, the message written below it, the reason Stiles was standing next to her. She figured it out just as their teacher said it.

"Yes," she clarified, "I was wondering if you've looked into any tutors."

"I haven't."

Ms. Redding smiled, "In that case, Mr. Stilinski, is there any chance you could be a dear and help your friend with her history work. Our midterms are in a little less than three weeks, and it would be most beneficial if Y/N could get a higher grade on that to bring up her average."

Stiles ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I mean, sure- of course- why me?"

Their teacher laughed, "Well, one, it's obvious you two know each-other so I sought that would be a more comfortable arrangement. Two, it's no surprise to any of us that you're passing this class with flying marks." She smiled. "So what do you say?"

Stiles nodded, "Sure, I'll help."

She glanced at him from the side, seeing how he was already throwing a playful smile in her direction. Slyly, she pressed her lips together to hold back a smile of her own.

With that their teacher dismissed them like the rest of the students. Stiles followed her out; she could feel the fingertips of his hand on the small of her back. The small gesture brought a blush to her cheeks, as she wasn't sure if even he was aware he was doing it.

"Thank you," she said once they made it out of the class and into the midst of the hallway. Since they had been held back for a few minutes the rest of the students had already cleared out. She looked up at him, watching his eyes meet hers.

He pressed his pointer to the side of his head, itching a random spot. She didn't have to of spent a lot of time with him to know that was one of his nervous ticks. It was just another tell that he thought more of her than simply as a friend.

"Anytime," he grinned, rocking back and forth on his feet, "So, uh, tomorrow?"

She snapped back into focus. "Tomorrow?"

"To study?" he clarified, "I mean I figured you would want to go ahead and start so we can get the whole effect, but if you'd rather wait and procrastinate like I usually do I'm all good with that."

He spoke so fast that she almost missed the main point of his rant. "Right, well I'd say we start sooner. Tomorrow works for me. My house or yours?"

"yours," He stated, then backtracked as she realized how pointed that came out, "If that's good with you?"

"It is." She smiled.

"Okay."

"Okay."

A pause—then she spoke again.

"I'll see you then."

Stiles shook his head, the silence drawing out, "Okay...well, uhm," he pointed behind him, "I'm going to go..lacrosse practice and all.."

"Right!" she exclaimed, another blush rising to her cheeks. She suddenly felt bad that she had been keeping him past the time he needed to be at practice. She knew how Coach was; he would be pissed if Stiles didn't make it to Workouts on time. Sometimes she would go with Allison to watch Scott play—(that's what she said but obviously there was a much different reason)—and Coach could be brutal. Funny, but brutal.

He started backtracking, slowly moving his feet so he was moving in the opposite direction away from her. He gave her a sharp wave, then, in a quick shift of movements, turned and sprinted down the hallway.

Her eyes went wide. She had to bring her hand up to her mouth to stop the laugh that wanted to escape. Needless to say that he looked quite funny when he ran; it was even better that he seemed to be running full force to get out of the awkward situation he had been in.

"Bye?.." she said to herself, the question in the word lingering on her tongue. She watched as he turned a sharp corner, shoes sliding on the floor before he disappeared behind the wall.

Stiles was strange alright, but she guessed that's what she liked about him.

They ended up studying the next night—his place, not hers. It was better than she expected it to be. Stiles must've felt more comfortable around her since they were simply going over the notes for class. He talked basically the whole time, which wasn't a problem for her—she liked his voice.

After that night they planned to meet up at either one of there house for three out of the five days for the next three weeks.

Not once did Stiles call off, or show up late.

Tonight was no different.

Three knocks at the door was what signaled her to climb out of bed. Quickly she threw on a hoodie to cover up the tanktop she had been wearing. She spotted Stiles from her window. He was dressed in sweatpants and his red zip up jacket. A smile formed on her lips watching him rock back and forth on his feet, one of his hands coming up to run through his hair.

One incredibly positive benefit that came out of these study session with Stiles was that they had grown much closer together. He wasnt as nervous in her presence anymore. He wouldn't stutter, or even blush as much as he used too. The same went for her. Somehow the two of them had seemed to become comfortable enough to the point where they didn't need to be careful around eachother.

She managed to get downstairs in record time, flinging open the door to reveal a sleepy stiles. Disheveled hair and a half faded smile took up her sight, along with the stack of books he was holding in one of his arms.

She waved him inside, to which he followed. He placed his books down on the kitchen counter in a sluggish manner.

"Are you okay?"

His head perked up, but after taking in the question he responded with a wave. "I'm all good."

"You look tired."

He turned to face her, leaning his arms on the counter. "Why thank you, Just the compliment I needed to hear."

Her eyes rolled as an automatic gesture. "I don't mean it like that.."—she moved towards him, reaching out and grabbing one of his hands—"how much sleep did you get last night?"

"Enough."

"I think you could sleep for a whole week and it still wouldn't be enough," she told him with a laugh.

Stiles rubbed his thumb over the part of her hand that was covering hers. Carefully she saw him glances down at it, a faint smile crossing his face. "Just homework," he shrugged, "and over thinking, you know."

"Anything I can help with?"

"I wish," he paused, opening his mouth as if he was going to add onto that statement but stopped, "but its alright, all good, very good, let's go study."

He picked up his books after that, heading straight up the stairs and to her bedroom. She ran up after him, entering her room to see him casually sprawling oht on her bed. Three weeks ago she wouldn't believe if someone told her Stiles Stilinski would be in her room, let on making himself at home on her bed.

"Did you finish the notes?" he asked her. He had picked up one of her pens that had previously been on her bed and was tossing it up into the air. Now he was laying on his back, attention averted towards the flying object.

She took a seat next to him, sitting cross cross as she looked over her papers. "Yeah, that's what I was doing before you came. I made flashcards too, but I've already got those memorized."

"You sure? Want me to quiz you?" He sat up, reaching over for the stack of paper. Her hand got there first, pulling the cards up and away from his reach.

"I'm good," she reassured, "should I quiz you? Or is there anything else I can help you with?"

Stiles eyed her with suspicion, head tilted ever so slightly. "I thought I was supposed to be the tutor?"

She punched him in the shoulder, not hard enough to hurt him, but with enough force to shut him up. "For history—what about English? Did you finish writing your essay?"

A blush coated his cheeks as he ducked his head away. "Umm..."

"Stiles."

He placed one of his hands out in front of him, "Okay look! I can explain, and it's not like I'm that far behind—just a couple...paragraphs.."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "It's due tomorrow."

"I'm aware! Don't worry I'll get it done tonight."

"It's already 7 o'clock?"

"Yeah, so later tonight." His eyes glossed over hers and he sighed, "Like later later when you're asleep and dreaming about acing your history exam."

"Why haven't you written your essay?" she asked again, "didnt your teacher give you, what, two weeks?"

Stiles sighed, laying back down on her sheets. "I've been distracted alright." He looked at her, resting his head on his elbow as his fingers reached for a strand of her hair, twirling it i between his pointer and his thumb. She shook her head, but dropped the topic, instead cleaning up the supplies she had been using to study and moving it to the end of her bed.

"In that case, I guess we're done."

"What?"

Stiles stopped his actions, freezing momentarily as he cocked his head.

"I feel good," she explained, "Prepared for tomorrow. So, if you also feel ready and don't need help with your essay, then I guess we don't need to study."

"So what?" Stiles replied, "You want me to leave? Here I was thinking you enjoyed my company."

She scoffed, sliding under the covers of her bed and grabbing her laptop. With her free hand she wrapped her fingers around his forearm, pulling him closer. Her heart pounded at the action, but in the end it was worth it because now they were both pressed against her headboard, their shoulders barely touching. "Do you want to watch a movie?" she asked, watching him cover his mouth as he yawned. She laughed a bit to herself, "Or would you rather sleep?"

"Ha, funny." He gave her a blank stare before starting up his rant. "Movie, for sure, But not too long of a movie because I need to get home before 11 to make sure my dad gets back from the station. He keeps claiming that he makes it in by 10:30 but I get home too late so I never see him, and I swear he locks his bedroom door before he leaves to convince me he's in there."

"I'm surprised you haven't picked the lock," she joked, keeping the mood light despite the warm feeling she got in her stomach just from hearing him talk.

"I tried," Stiles confessed, lips pouting slightly as he thought back to the memory, "he switched the knob."

She laughed at that, not suprised the sheriff had taken time out of his day to provide himself some privacy from his son. If there was one person who could match up to Stiles' stubbornness it was his father. "Its actually really sweet of you to take the time to make sure he's okay."

"Well, yeah. He's my dad. I'd do the same for you or Scott, or anybody else I care about."

She turned her head, hiding the blush that was creeping onto her face. Unable to hide the grin that was forming on her face, she took to pressing her cheek into Stiles' shoulder. His body froze with the movement, but quickly adapted by wrapping his arms around her back, resting his hand on her lower waist.

"So, uh," he coughed, covering the awkwardness in a weak attempt, "What should be watch?"

"Tangled?"

He nodded and she began to pull up the movie on her computer. The movie started with the sound of Flynn Riders voice. Once she knew it was all set up and would be good to play she let herself lean back to where she had been pressed up against Stiles. His hand squeezed the side of her waist, evidently pulling her closer.

For about half of the movie they stayed like that, embraced in eachother warmth as their eyes stayed strained on the movie. At least—hers did.

Unknown to her, Stiles had been catching glimpses of the side of her face the entire film. He loved the way the corner of her film tilted up when a character made a joke, or how he could tell she was struggling not the mouth the lyrics to the songs.

A blush rose to his cheeks as he thought about the beautiful girl, and how the hell he had managed to end up where he is right now.

At one point he grew so hot that he had to take off his sweatshirt, discarding it to the floor.

Briefly the thought of his essay crept back to the front of his brain. It was due tomorrow morning, and he had barely started the introduction paragraph. He could only blame himself. Instead of writing it for the past two weeks like he was supposed to, he had been too busy watching as Y/N flipped through the pages of her history notebook, or the way her nose scrunched as she read something that confused her.

He couldn't even start to count the amount of times he had spaced out thinking of the possibilities of what could happen if he scraped their studying and kissed her instead.

The temptation was higher than ever now. Watching her lips carefully he imagined what it would be like if he just pushed a little closer. So little room between them, yet he was unable to make the final move.

He didn't realize he had been staring for as long as he had. If he had noticed sooner then he would've pulled away—forced himself to continue watching the movie instead of the perfect painting right in front of him. However he was caught in the act before he was able to escape.

She turned her head quickly, glancing at him for only a moment before looking back to the screen. It didn't register in her brain at first what she had saw—his eyes on her.

Then it clicked and she looked back, his amber eyes not having left hers.

Almost subconsciously she adjusted herself, allowing her hands to push her body up enough to be eye level with him. The movie was distant noise as she flickered her gaze down to his lips, which, at the moment, looked more captivating than ever.

Truth be told she didn't see if he had been looking at her lips too. Her heart was beating too fast in her chest to be able to assess the situation properly. She couldn't tell how long they sat there, staring at eachother with nothing but longing.

It wasn't until she felt a pair of lips on hers that everything focused back into frame.

His hand was grazing her cheek, pressing his palm into her skin as he slowly slid it around her neck. The action sent heat down her body, flaming up her insides. With a surge of confidence she leaned into him, taking her hands and threading them through the back of his hair. The hand that had previously been around her waist moved to her hip, lodging onto the area as support.

They kissed until the air ran out between them, and then, did they pull away.

Stiles smiled against her lips, and she about folded right there.

"Wow.." he muttered, voice incredibly soft.

She opened her eyes hoping to see his looking back at hers, yet they were still closed. It was a few moments later that he slowly blinked them open. She guessed that maybe it wasn't just her that had been in a daze.

He was all swollen lips and flushed cheeks as he looked at her in wonder. "That was.." he bit his cheek in thought of what to say next, but nothing intelligent was coming to mind. "..wow."

She kissed him again.

This time Stiles made a suprised hum against her lips. The sound echoed in her ears, fueling her desire to kiss the boy even more. She adjusted herself for the second time that night, excpet now she was taking a chance to increase the momentum.

She tried to sit up, planning on swinging one of her legs around his waist, but Stiles seemed to have others ideas. Scooting the laptop to the end of the bed, he pushed her flush against the mattress, placing himself inbetween her legs.

She had never seen him so bold. This was so much different than the boy she had met not even a month ago.

Stiles kept his hands safely at the spot between her hips and her waist, the small dip becoming his safe haven as he continued to kiss her passionately.

Her hands went to his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. He moaned at the sensation, pressing his body closer until they were practically flush.

She didn't like how much fabric was between them, so, she decided to fix it. With a tug of her hands against the bottom of his shirt he understood. Stiles broke apart their kiss for only a moment to rid himself of his maroon t shirt. She marveled at his body for a moment, taking in the few moles on his chest before pulling him right back down.

Carefully she felt him creep his right hand up along the side of her body. Inching slowly, he didn't stop until he was able to grab ahold of her hand and thread his fingers through. He took both of their conjoined hands back, pinning them above her head with ease. His other hand stayed locked on her waist, and as much as she wouldn't oblige for him to put it wherever he please, she did appreciate how gentle he was being with her.

It was her who moaned this time as Stiles moved from her mouth to her neck, sucking at a spot right above her collarbone.

The moment was short lived by the sound of her mom calling her name.

Stiles shot up, wide eyes making contact with hers with a look of panic. She only had a few seconds to take in how soft and perfect he looked before she was frantically pushing him off.

"Yes?" she yelled back to her mom, as she searched for the laptop that was going to have to act as their alibi for the moment.

"Mr. Stilinski just called me asking for Stiles home, he said something about dinner with the McCalls?"

She looked to Stiles. He shook his head, throwing his hands in the air. "I didn't know!" he whispered, clearly straining his voice to stop from speaking too loudly.

"Your shirt!" she shot back, finding the article on the floor and tossing it to him. Quickly he rushed to put it on, his eyes looking around the room for something else.

"Y/N?" her mom called—again, "Did you hear me?"

"Yes! We will be right down!"

She turned to Stiles to see him frantically pulling at the material of his pants.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

Her eyes went wide, a hand had to cover her mouth to keep a laugh from slipping out. In any other situation this would be hilarious to her, but right now they had practically less than a minuete to show themselves outside her door. If they didn't, her mom would probably come in to get them anyway.

"Uh..." she looked around, spotting his sweatshirt which was on the other side of the room and flung it at him. "Here! Just uh...you know just-"

"Got it, thanks," he nodded, holding it in front of him with one hand and reaching out to her with the other.

"What are you-"

"Your hair," he informed, as he tried to run his fingers through it, "fix your hair."

Her jaw dropped, and in panic she ran to her mirror and saw how messy she looked. She tried to flatten it down with her hands, using her fingers as a makeshift comb for now.

"We got to go," she informed, grabbing his books from the desk and placing it in his arm, "Just...don't drop them."

"Will do," Stiles chuckled, yet his smile was nothing of the same positivity.

She opened the door to her room, meeting face to face with her mother who stood there arms crossed.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yep," she exclaimed, "We were just getting together his stuff. Books and pencils...to study."

"Right," her mom turned, "Stiles, it's nice to see you again."

"It's good to see you too!" his voice squeaked, and she practically hung her head in defeat. Her mom glanced at the both of them, suspicion in her eyes as she sent them down the stairs. Once stiles was securely out of the house and in his jeep did her mom turn to her, a knowing expression covering her face.

"So," she smiled, forging innocence, "what's for dinner?"

────

"So you're not in trouble?" Stiles asked, a nervous tone laced in his voice. "No punishment?— you're not grounded?"

"Nope," she shrugged, "I think my mom is having more fun taunting me by knowing."

"Ha," he laughed, before walking forward toward their history class, "same goes for Scott who ratted me out the moment I got home and saw we actually were having dinner with the McCalls."

"Scott knows?!"

"Yeah, and, uh...my dad...and...Melissa.."

"Oh my god stiles."

"Look I tried, but then Scott was claiming he could smell something on me and he figured out it was your scent and the secret just unfolded from there."

She shook her head. In all honesty she didn't care who knew that her and Stiles had kissed; she was more concerned on what story he was telling them. They didn't get time to discuss what it meant for them. She could only hope that he meant it more than in a one time way.

Deciding to change the topic as they entered the classroom, she started back up the convo with a question. "Did you finish your essay?"

His face flushed red. "Yeah, yeah, it's done."

"You don't sound so sure?"

"Nope! I'm very sure. Very, compeltly, hundred percent sure that that essay is written and ready to be turned in."

She squinted her eyes, passing him a judgmental glance as they took their seats next to eacother. "Do you want me to proof read it? English is next period for you, right?"

"Yeah, but, it's all good. I read over it like a hundred times last night so.."

She wanted to press him more but the teachers voice rang out through the room and they were silenced.

"Remember everyone this test is worth 50% of your semester grade. It would be in your best interest to do the very best you can possibly do. If you don't know an answer to a question make the best educated guess possible."

She began to pass out the papers to each student. When the teacher got to her desk, they made eye contact for a split moment. A silent reminder that she needed to do good on this test to pass with a B.

"And...you may start."

The rest of the day went by rather quick. She couldn't wait to see Stiles after school, having decided that she would ask him what the kiss meant then.

The bell rang, and she moved hastily to reach where Stiles' English classroom was. Usually she caught up with him about halfway during her walk there, but today it seemed he was nowhere in sight. Slowly she crept up to the door. With it still being open she peaked her head around the corner. Two figures remained in the class. One teacher, and one Stiles.

She waited there for a few minuets, easedropping in on their conversation. There were a few words about certain grades and participation before he eventually stalked out of the classroom, a prominent frown on his face.

"What happened?" she asked, scaring him from the unexpected sound of her voice. He turned quickly, his lip curving up into a smile at the sight of her. Quickly his actions changed and he brought a hand up to the back of his neck.

"Uh..."

"Stiles?"

"So, you know English paper..." he started, but he didn't have to continue for her to catch on.

She punched him in the shoulder. "You didn't finish it did you?"

Stiles shook his head, eyes avoiding hers as he looked at the floor in embarrassment. "My teacher actually said she thinks it would be best if I got somebody to tutor me."

His eyes were pleading.

"and you want me to tutor you?"

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed, happily placing his hands on either side of her shoulders, "So you'll do it?"

She nodded, and his face lit up into a smile. Without warning he leaned forward, placing a rushed kiss to her lips before freezing on spot.

Right.

She laughed.

They still had to talk about what happened last night.

── ·𖥸· ──

MAE !
I know the ending was rushed
but I needed to get this out it's
been WAY too long since I've
written something

live laugh love miecyszlaw 🫶

that's all I have to say